Horror House Hysteria

28 Jan

I felt It coming. I know It’s inevitable. A good friend suggested I try and cope when It comes ( if I know) by having a word document open and ready. I’d only tried to make sense of delirium, of flirting in the space between real and unreal, of a casual blind date with psychosis where he’s sheepish and well mannered but nevertheless inherently devilish. This sucks. It’s my friend’s 22nd birthday and I was about to go out to a Beat Poetry Lounge – I really, really wanted to go. I do have too much homework and meeting preparation to complete to have a peace of mind and go without sacrificing school, sleep and/or financial aid. BUT underneath all the reasons dictated by logic explaining why I am here and not there was the persecutory premonition of what was to come, and come quick. I did muster a few keyboard pokes during It, but as a coping mechanism, not so helpful. It’s subdued now, leaving me numb, exhausted and beaten up from the inside out. What I wrote:

Horror House Hysteria

Inventory of fears like a million cruel mirrors each skewed to suit a sinister procession,

prompts paralysis, Bermuda triangle open wide like pupil dialysis,

censorship plunges the plank, psychotic visions shank umbilical reality, body catatonic magma anger melts mind, scared stiff in arbitrary place and eternal time:

cackling odor, pungent poles piercing skin slicing screams surging shredded into dust caught stale in midair,

mouth sewn inside out eye lids forged into one, and ears ripped off bleeding buried into their hole pleading as I listen pleading and realize only I can hear and eyes can see and nose can know the sweat stained smell of my own terror magnified inside and inescapable to inverted senses, isolated;

alone . beheaded and embedded into a horror house whoring me out to my own worst nightmares.  

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